Cats on Mars
by suiei
Summary: Eyes that change colors? Wings? Instantly the object of lust? The Mary Sue Virus has infected Organization XIII, and Xaldin and Luxord, quickly losing ground, must fix it before it destroys everything. PARODY
1. Chapter 1

Much OOCness abounds as Elizabeth tries hard _not _to make out with every Organization member even vaguely attracted to her, and fight back the disease for her own cynicism and sanity!

Xemnas especially wants her..._head on a platter_. If the poor boy can actually fight off the MSV long enough to do it. Axel is kept at bay with a squirt bottle.

Basically, everyone gets fucked over—_not_ laid.

Oh—the name Cats on Mars came from my love of Cowboy Bebop. It seemed like a kooky enough name for a fic as on crack as this one. I don't own KH2. This isn't aimed at anyone in particular, I've been into fanfiction long enough to have been around the block several times, but hey: It's not my fault if you're offended.

♠♣♥♦

Angel wings. Despite humans' comple lack of evolutionary adaptation to flight, Elizabeth had somehow sprouted _angel wings _overnight. Big, white, and kind of heavy. Downy and soft. They weighed on her shoulders, and the girl had to hunch over to find a comfortable place.

She'd _never_ get her sleeping camisole off. In fact, getting dressed was going to be a hideous hassle altogether. Let alone _cleaning_ the feathers. How do you clean feathers in the first place?

Needless to say, the poor girl was reeling.

Her eyes changed from their normal hazel to a blazing orange, and she nearly topped over--she stepped heavily on some primary flight feathers, almost yanked them out, and screeched out something vulgar for it. Big white wings weren't meant to be stuffed into little dorm rooms, they were meant to be free—

Eyes that change color? Angel wings? What the _hell_?

_And what's up with my hair? And my face!_

Somehow Elizabeth's skin had become blemish-free and milky white. She was used to being reasonably pale—but this was ridiculous. She looked like a porcelain doll. And her hair looked like something from a Pantene Pro-V commercial: Long, silky and a more golden shade of blond than it normally was. Split ends were in absentia, and there were no flyaways. At the least it had retained its length and not extended: Small of the spine. Her fingernails were long and perfectly manicured though she hadn't done anything but failed to cut them recently. Though she was 19, and had _always_ appeared her natural age, she had an age_less_ near Olsen twin-like face now.

Oh, and, here's a kicker: She miraculously had 20/20 vision even though she'd worn glasses since fourth grade, and had been nearing legal blindness.

_I can't go out like this! I don't even look like me—well, I _do_, kind of_—_but a creepy, idealized _version_ of me! And I have class today! I have a _test _tomorrow!_

But, strangely: Classes and _real life _had ceased to matter as much to Elizabeth as being a good person. Surely the professor would understand and give her a retest? Her goodliness would touch his heart. Something in Elizabeth, something that was quickly losing ground, was horrified at this perversion of normalcy.

Elizabeth fought to retain some semblance of reality even as she felt she was losing control. She tried to get a hand on one of her wings and found that they were sensitive—she couldn't jerk the damn things around. They were physically connected to her being. Not good. She could wear sunglasses to cover her eyes, but she couldn't do anything about the wings without killing herself in the process.

Fortunately for the young Mary Sue—gasp, hoshit—she didn't even have to worry about mundane reality for much longer: Darkness suddenly sprung up around her and swallowed the startled girl posthaste.

A sudden surge of freefall sent her stomach flying up—strangely, she didn't feel like puking—and she landed without hurting herself on a soft, soft bed.

♠♣♥♦

MUHAHAHAHAHA. Flame me, bitches! Come on, you know you want to! Feed me!

Oh, and she'll somehow end up as a high schooler, even though she's a college student. Yeah, that should be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Hah! Flame me, please! Otakukin, Hitler, and YouTube, oh my! It's a merry ole life. Doesn't help that the word count for chapter 1 is 666. In case you're wondering, Elizabeth _is_ my name. I am this Mary Sue. Viva moi! Read!

♥

Elizabeth damn well knew she should have been freaking out. Spazzing, crying, the whole nine yards and then some.

But she wasn't, and perhaps that was even more disturbing; her neural synapses had seemingly ceased to function—yet she sat upright. Wait—suddenly neural synapses was a phrase that ceased to be understandable—no, _no_ usage of ceased, either—she couldn't control her own body anymore. And she had to use high school vocabulary to describe it in, too.

No, she wasn't having a seizure.

She clawed desperately at the vestiges—sorry, _what was left of_—her consciousness, though it was slipping perilously—dangerously—out of her fingers.

The room was white, and was lit from an inner light that had no visible origin. It was decorated by someone who clearly had little imagination except what looked good to a spastic three year old, and anything of color was done in shades of gray or Prussian blue.

She was in a bed. Somehow, that actually felt _right_.

Letting her now cerulean frost blue eyes drift across the room, she spied a silvery tuft of hair poking up near the headboard, mostly obscured by a massive collection of white pillows.

Beyond the grip of her control, her body moved automatically, inching without fear towards the figure—it was someone sleeping.

_Now, first of all: You should be scared shitless. And you just landed on a bed. What the hell do you think's going to happen when this person wakes up and doesn't _appreciate_ you being here?_

Elizabeth's angel wings impeded—restricted—movement, they were huge and heavy, and she lifted them up—seemingly knowing what she was doing even though she'd never had wings to know how to move them at _all—_

"Excuse me?" the voice was timid but curious. Elizabeth pulled back the covers, exposing a heart-shaped, tanned face, with silver hair draped around it in a way that made him look adorable. Like a teddy bear with pretty silver eyelashes.

_...Okay? So who is this guy?_

**It's Xemnas! I must be in the Kingdom Hearts world!**

The voice boomed into Elizabeth's thoughts like stereo surround sound, and the jarred half-conscious wondered dazedly, first off: What the _hell_ had she been smoking that she didn't know about, and: How did she come to _that_ inane conclusion so quickly? Kingdom Hearts? That game that doesn't actually exist, so there's _no way_ Princess Mansex exists, let alone sleeping especially so you can drop into his bed? Let alone the other variables which would take far too long to go into.

And you _can't_ be his reincarnation, either. Otakukin, I'm looking at you.

Oh, wait, no but: Elizabeth, Mary Sue extraordinaire, knew she was somehow connected to him in her past lives. A connexion,¹ in the alternate universe life where she and that place's incarnation of Organization XIII killed Hitler before he gained power, thus saving the world from the horrors of the Holocaust.² And, since Japan _is_ teh kawaii, no one paid attention when it invaded Manchuria and raped Nanking. She had enough modesty to semi-slide into obscurity. Except for that exposé...and the book. And the billboard.

She ended up marrying Axel and having babies with him. Even though Elizabeth _hated_ babies, she had to have babies for the cute factor.

Ahem. She knew Xehanort and knew all his memories, somehow dreaming it up after cheating and watching the secret ending on YouTube.

Anyway: Xemnas' eyelids quivered, and they slid open, focusing drowsily on the figure leaning over him. She had big wings. And vibrant blue eyes. And beautiful blond hair and pouty lips.³

"...Are you an angel?"

Elizabeth about died. _Are you an angel? Really, now? _Xemnas_ saying that? _ (For the sake of ease, Elizabeth isn't going to fight and just accept that it's Xemnas ad hoc.)

"...Where am I?" Elizabeth _was_ reserved around certain people. She was _not_, as a rule of thumb, meek and kittenish. In fact to meet her you might not even like her, she's the type to rip you a new asshole if you caught her on a bad day. But there was some token terror in her voice.

When Xemnas didn't leap from the bed and impale her on a lightsaber, Elizabeth wondered why. Though she couldn't say she wasn't grateful for small favors.

He seemed rather stunned. Despite the fact that Xemnas clearly demonstrated deeply sociopathic behavior, and that he was the _leader_ of Organization XIII, he didn't seem to know what to do with a wingèd nearly-not teen on his bed.

Elizabeth felt the need to help him.

The half-conscious inside of her reared up in alarm: _Help_ Xemnas? Uh, how about no?

He was pitiable: He was misguided, he just needed a little help. Help which she could provide.

_I have my own fucking problems, thanks!_ Elizabeth screeched. _Problems which _I_ can't handle well, so what the hell makes me so qualified to know what _Xemnas_ needs and doesn't need!_

"No," Elizabeth admitted, and her inner self was devastated to realize that she'd just _giggled shyly_.

Picon suddenly realizes that she's broken Commandment #1 of the Mary Sue Covenant: _Thou shalt spent an inordinate amount of time describing Mary Sue-chan's appearance in the _first chapter_, preferably the first paragraph, if not the first half of said first chapter, including both physical descriptions and the descriptions of the _clothing worn_ by the Mary Sue. Hitherto shall this law be upheld! So sayeth the Gods of Fandom._

Picon hopes this transgression will be overlooked and this quickie version will suffice:

Elizabeth wore, in addition to a green cotton camisole with a printed-on shark on the back from Cozumel, Mexico, a pair of bright red plaid flannel pants with green and white stripes. She preferred camisoles to T-shirts, they breathed better in stuffy dorm rooms. Oh, and for effect: She also wore strappy, glitzy high heel shoes. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, Pantene Pro-V'd, sliding temptingly across her skin.

Yes, that was _meant_ to be jarring and out of place. Also creepy. Back to the story.

The female—because there was an overuse of that word, being used happily by many a fantard writer—leaned down, tilting her head to the side.

"Where am I?"

_You fucking idiot. You just _said_ this was Xemnas_, put in Inner Elizabeth sourly. _You get three guesses. Clue: Where does Xemnas live?_

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Xemnas snapped, sitting up sharply.

_Put me out of my misery. Let me know this is just one shitty nightmare._

"I don't know..." And somehow, as if on cue, the Mary Sue began to cry. And, though Xemnas was about to give the Mary Sue the death it deserved, he suddenly felt his nonexistent heart melt and he found himself, to make a long story short, hugging the girl. He tried not to bend the feathers, but he still awkwardly had his arms around her neck, petting her pretty hair and whispering soothing things into her ear.

Mary Sue and Inner Elizabeth froze—though for different reasons, and quite abruptly Inner Elizabeth almost spiraled right out of existence, going under the full effect of this mysterious waive of sanity, so horrifically stunned was she.

But she didn't, mere fractions of a moment before Xemnas' lips touched hers.

A surge of panic rushed up, and for a few precious moments, Elizabeth regained command of her own body. She jerked back from Xemnas, landing awkwardly on her wings.

"God_damnit_!" she yelped, writhing, feeling something strain and then sing with pain. She yanked out feathers on accident.

Elizabeth fought back an indignant foreign host with all the bitter nastiness she'd been known to exert. Inner Elizabeth was imperfect. Mary Sue Elizabeth _was_ perfect, she could do anything and that _wretch_ was screwing it all up! She was so close, _so close_ to helping that poor, misguided soul—

And being comforted for her painful childhood, where she'd been beaten by her parents and shunned by everyone.

_You grew up in suburbia, and you were _hardly_ a victim_, Elizabeth shouted on the inside, finally wresting control of herself back enough to where she could sit up in discomfit and hack up air.

Xemnas had a firm grip on her arm, and the blond stared up, her eyes shifting back into their boring, normal hazel. Because that was what happened when Elizabeth regained control of her body: Her eyes turned back to hazel, though they seemed dull and unimpressive next to the colors that they would change into.

"Are you okay?" Xemnas asked, clearly worried. "Are you hurt?"

Elizabeth's barely-there command faltered for a moment, and she leaned away when he tried to "comfort" her. She couldn't force her voice to work, it was hard to breath—somehow, her breath was constricted.

He tried to kiss her again—or that was what she assumed was going on, and Elizabeth forced her sluggish limbs into motion, crawling away and bracing herself against the headboard. She planted a foot in Xemnas' chest and shoved, sending the silver-haired loon sprawling.

Xemnas topped over in a highly undignified way, and though every inch of being in her screamed that she was doing the _wrong thing_—go back there and get mutual comfort! Mostly just personal gratification, though!—Elizabeth resolutely ignored it and limped towards the open bay window and the balcony beyond.

"Where are you going?"

Okay, _now_ he was pissed.

"Saving us both!" Elizabeth snapped, gritting her teeth and launching herself off the railing. Normally, she would have rather died before doing this, having a mortal fear of heights and a healthy respect for her mortality, but her phobias were far more numb with the influence of a perfect, phobia-free being within her, and she was desperate.

Her wing-muscles ached and stung, but she tried to make them work anyway.

She didn't know how to fly.

**You insipid little brat! How could you! How mean!**

Wincing against the Jenova-voice,ª Elizabeth plummeted like a stone. The Mary Sue voice was railing at her, though quite frankly Elizabeth had more important things to worry about.

Like the pointy spires right below her, fast closing in distance.

♥

Cerulean frost was the color of a crayon I was particularly fond of as a child. It was blue and pretty and sparkly. It was also the color of the eyes of the first original character I made up. And yes, she was a bona fide Mary Sue.

I don't think you can really tell at this point, but most of the story is carried out after this initial outbreak is contained. We see the rest of Organization XIII's reactions in the next chapter! Huzzah for the crappiest fic in the all of _evar_!

Heroin. This thing ain't on crack, it's on heroin. Has to be. Mwahaha.

¹ Connexion: I didn't misspell this, it's an alternate spelling. Live with it.

² Nevermind that Hitler wasn't the only Nazi in existence before he gained power, note that I didn't say they took out the whole National Socialist movement. Hehehehe.

³ As a special FYI, I cracked up when I wrote that.

ª Jenova-voice: Basically, voice in her head like Jenova's voice in Sephiroth's head. I was running out of words, sue me.


	3. Chapter 3

What would _you_ do for a Klondike bar?

♥

Xemnas was a stoner with Machiavellian tendencies. Xehanort had spearheaded _scientific_ research into the nether regions of the heart, with five other apprentices along for the ride. This necessitates that his Nobody is neither clueless or stupid.

The Nobodies of those five apprentices and Xemnas made up the top six of Organization XIII, and none of them were _anything_ but a force to be reckoned with. The Superior most of all—that was what made him the Superior; like it or not, he had the ability to hold the dysfunctional group together and the power to _stay_ at the top.

That includes everything up to and including _sexual positions. _ Even though there is _no_ canonical evidence to support heterosexual, let alone _homosexual_ activity in Organization XIII other than the obvious acronym of their leader's name, a certain abbreviation of 'Organization' itself, and perhaps Axel, this law must still be abided by. The leather coats are a possible indication, but that's another story entirely. The boots, at least, seem to have been standard issue as an apprentice to Ansem the Wise—feel free to make of that what you will.

Note: _Just because the author thought Marluxia was a chick the first time she saw him and he likes pink doesn't make him queerbait. _ Two hot guys do not a feasible storyline make.¹

What in the name of Nothing had just happened?

There was something wretched festering in the back of Xemnas' consciousness. A girl with an angelic face. He'd surfaced to cognizance—awareness—with a single saber summoned. There was a haze in between—it refused to clear.

"Thought you should know: There's an intruder."

Xigbar stepped through a portal. Most of the members of Organization XIII kept erratic living schedules, if they kept a schedule at all and didn't simply sleep and eat when it was most convenient. It was hard to maintain 'daily routine' when there _was_ no day to codify—a general frame of reference is insinuated, _suggested_, here—anything, so the fact that Xigbar was perfectly awake and fully dressed was not odd.

"It's being dealt with?"

The sharpshooter smiled, and it made the lines of his broad face sharpen, the jagged scar below his remaining yellow eye twist in a less-than-aesthetic way.

"You have to ask?" Xigbar was semi-nominal second-in-command, the Freeshooter, for a _reason_. He was not a _cute_ _guy_, he was not a _surfer god_. He was a _sniper_, around 40, and an ever loving BAMF: Whatever took his eye and scarred his face had likely not lived to admire the handiwork.

Xemnas, leaving his bed for the baser Nobodies to put to rights, strode out of sight behind a door, and reemerged wearing an Organization cloak. Xigbar had already gone, and Xemnas stepped into a portal, which would take him to Naught's Approach.

♥

Kairi's missing, separated-at-birth younger sister (Let's do the timewarp!) was still hurtling downward, head first.

Pointy objects: Not good.

Falling towards pointy objects and quickly reaching terminal velocity: _Very_ not good.

"How the fuck do I make these _stupid_ things work!" Elizabeth shouted angrily, twisting in the air and trying to do _something_ more productive than simply dropping. She was not relishing the idea of being skewered alive.

Well, considering she wouldn't be alive long enough for it to matter once she was impaled—_bam_ and then nothing—

The wings strained but she couldn't get the hang of hooking air to create lift. She was fighting air resistance, and indeed for her very awareness. The Sue was chipping away at it with every passing moment, taking vicious advantage of Elizabeth's growing half-panic to strain her hold.

**I _will_ defeat you!**

Elizabeth was otherwise caught up or else she would have responded, and you could bet it wouldn't be child-safe, Disney be damned.

—_whoomph_—

Wind snapped around her, pressing into a near-solid wall: It drove her to stop in midair, and she hung there—the sharpness of the sudden stop making her reel tenuously—in this usage, dangerously—for a few precious moments—moments taken advantage of by a Sue who wasn't subject to it but a token half a second. Her eyes flushed orange.

The blood rushed right to Elizabeth's head—she was _upside down_, after all, and Inner Elizabeth just managed to scrabble a niche into her conscious, preventing 100 takeover.

Wind. Wind could only mean _one_ Nobody—and, of course that One was Xaldin: The Organization's Number II, the Whirlwind Lancer. A serious man without a drop of emasculation—i.e., he doesn't look like a _girl_—in his body. Reviled by the fandom because they're bitter, sissy bastards.²

He was flanked by several Dragoon Nobodies, and he hovered in midair, hands behind his back. He didn't have his hood down, but there were only so many options and it's the duty of all Sue fics to _know_ something without any solid proof backing it up, even if things are going so fast that no one could possibly figure anything out except perhaps that the sky _might_ be blue. Or in this case rather stormy and black.

"It seems I've caught a fly," he said, and the Mary Sue could have screamed in indignation.

"Let me go _this_ _instant_!" Sue-Elizabeth shrieked, though not quite so loudly as the wind pressed up against her chest, making it a little hard to breathe.

"Not an option," said another voice, more Nobodies popping into view. They seemed to cling sideways to invisible structures, and Elizabeth grimaced as a laser sight passed over an eye, blinding her momentarily with aftersight.

Xigbar. Damn, she'd gotten some high-ranking attention today. Perhaps it should be taken into consideration that management doesn't bother with what grunts might do by themselves—translation, it would be more likely that they would send masses of Nobodies after Elizabeth, rather than come to face her personally—but for our purposes, such will have to be overlooked. This is why bosses are typically in the highest room of the tallest tower and they make it that much of a bitch to get to them.

That, and the Nobodies probably would have just let her fall and kill herself, as that would involve no effort from themselves. They could go back to being fleeced by Luxord and CandyLand, and pin the tail on the Keybearer.

"Let me go!" she howled.

Xigbar stared at her, eye lingering just a little too long before shaking himself out of it. In the short span of time his face had suddenly smoothed out, more streamlined and smooth (2x the smooth-ness for emphasis!), and...prettier looking. More like Axel, with an eyepatch. Bishified (my spell checker attempted to change that to "sissified"). Oh, and he miraculously lost 20 years of aging.

She was...beautiful. Wait...he didn't have a heart. He shouldn't be feeling these things—he shouldn't be feeling at all! That was inherent—part and parcel, rule numero uno—in _not having a heart_.

But it was there anyway.

"Any last words?" Xigbar asked, but his heart wasn't in it. A lot of expressions become painfully ironic when you lose your heart, if you hadn't noticed. Heartless, no heart in it, heartfelt...you're really up shit creek without a heart. Heart_broken_...Have you no heart? Why no sir, I don't...

The Sue suddenly radiated with a great deal of energy and broke Xaldin's wind barricade—uh...study your vocab, children!—and flew forward, charging Xaldin...totally ignoring the fact that wing-based flight is dependent upon—you guessed it—wind. Somehow, even though he threw a blast at her, it didn't even break her pace, and he skittered to the side, Dragoon Nobodies diving in.

Xigbar warped out of the way, and though he had a clear shot, he didn't take her down, realizing he'd never be able to hurt her.

A katana materialized in her hand in a rush of energy; it wasn't as glittery and fancy and jewel-encrusted as it could have been—not for lack of Sueness, but for the last degrees of Elizabeth that clung on desperately. A plus, because that meant she wasn't at 100 **Power of Good**. © Please don't sue Picon, she is a poor college student.

Quite frankly, Inner Elizabeth was just grateful that it didn't feature motifs of crooked crosses and runes—thank God for small favors. She didn't know what she'd tell the children.

Or anyone else who caught the references, for that matter—but let's face it: Anyone who reads Mein Kampf _and_ the Communist Manifesto before the age of 20, of their own free will, generally has some twistedness to them, and that twistedness gloms onto their Mary Sues.

"Who are you?" Xigbar asked, and the Sue froze.

"I'm Kaoru Sunshine Hikari," declared the Sue. "I'm Kairi's younger sister who was separated at birth, and destined to be caught in a love quadrilangrilal. Or else tortured by you until you see the light."

_No you're not, you're of fucking European descent and know _nothing_ about Japanese culture, so don't name yourself that. Anime doesn't count_, Elizabeth snapped. ..._Though, Ruroni Kenshin _did_ save my ass, once.³_

"Stop this!"

Inner Elizabeth could have shriveled up and died. Xemnas. This was _not_ good. A little ways off, on Naught's Approach, Xemnas stood; behind him were the assembled, remaining members of Organization XIII...some of them looking rather perturbed, and Demyx was in sleeping boxers with bubbles on them, zipping up his cloak. Remaining members because...uh...because the author hasn't ever played Chain of Memories. So let's say this is after that.

She would like to use this opportunity to point out that, though she has never played CoM, she knows that Zexion is _not_ emo, even if he resembles the lead singer to Panic! At the Disco, Vexen does _not_ rape puppies or is an old man, Lexaeus is _not_ an idiot or mute, and Larxene _is_ a sadistic bitch, in the truest sense. It's no coincidence that her name unscrambled could be Relena. And everyone ignores the Riku Replica.

And Axel _is_ a conniving bastard. That is all. Did I forget anyone?

"Arigato!" called out Kaoru Hikari McGee.

_Wapanese? No! Let me kill myself! And you spelled that wrong. Stick with one fucking language! Oh, and: Destiny Islands? Not Japan. Hence, Sora, Riku and Kairi are _not_ Japanese, so it makes no sense to pretend they are._

"Xemnas?" That was Xaldin, just a few inches short of mercifully mincing the Sue. Inner Elizabeth cursed her lousy luck, mentally snapping her fingers.

Xigbar stood off to the side, and recognized a contender for the heart of his newfound love. Though, since Xemnas was the Superior, he could do nothing at the moment.

Xaldin, however, was cognizant, had a keen knowledge of the fact that he was an incomplete being, so he sensed something wrong immediately, to a far higher degree than Xigbar did. Mostly because he's the hero—if Xigbar were the hero he'd be having these revelations.

His colleagues were acting strangely. It had to do with this girl, but he froze at the command of Xemnas.

She _was_ beautiful...

A stricken look passed momentarily over his face, and Xaldin drove the thought from his head.

♥

From hereon out, almost all of the important action will be carried out by Xaldin, and when he's introduced, Luxord.

Fuck yes, a _cliffie° _for the world's worst fanfiction! And chapter 3 is the _worst_ of them all! I have outdone myself. Watch and tremble as Picon howls with manic laughter. Flame me. Do so: Know that I feed on it. Mwa, luvs! No, seriously. It doesn't feel as funny as the last one. Damn it. I _hate_ boring chapters. Promise you: Next time it will be better.

**Ri2**: Lol. I guess so. Self-preservation instincts kicked in, I think.

**Anne Ominous**: Thank you. And as for your question...it'll be updated when I finish the chapters or feel inspired. I'm not very good at humor, so...I don't know how often it will be.

**Fun SizeD**: Heh. Thanks. Half of it is semi-self-deprecating.

¹ I read yaoi. Retract the fangs.

² You're just jealous.

³ The Shinsengumi existed, so if you pay attention to the bare historical facts of it you might actually learn something.

° Chappie and cliffie are two evil words. Banish them from your minds.


End file.
